


The Lies We Tell Ourselves

by CariadWinter



Series: Lost In Communication [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Depression, Emotional Abuse, F/M, Homophobia, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-18
Updated: 2012-11-18
Packaged: 2017-11-19 00:03:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/566803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CariadWinter/pseuds/CariadWinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for Kinkme_Merlin #KKM30.  Prompt is as follows:</p>
<p>Arthur/Merlin, slash or friendship. </p>
<p>The two of them have been best friends for a long time, and they are used to having each other around much more than to not having, and they are always there for each other. But then one of them (doesn't really matter which one) starts a proper relationship, for the first time during the whole history of their friendship. The girlfriend/boyfriend is a nice person and everything is nice, actually, but the single one finds out that he can't have as much place in the other's life as he's had before. Like, no phone calls late 'cause it interrupts the couple snogging on the couch or being out somewhere, some small traditions destroyed 'cause relationship demands the day-to-day order of things to change, less attention, less interest in the single one. Generally, he gets unintentionally cut out and feels that he's losing his best friend.<br/>He thinks it's alright, it's natural, and he backs off as much as he can. It all goes pretty fine until the single one gets into some serious trouble (it could be anything, from health to money, as long as it's serious), and there's no one to help him - now that he's alienated from his best friend, literally no one.<br/>I'd totally love lots of angst and hopelessness. Happy ending is preferable, but not necessary.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Please keep in mind that I am painfully American :D  So if the slang or terminology doesn’t quite flow… well, you know why.  I try really hard though <3</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Lies We Tell Ourselves

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Kinkme_Merlin #KKM30. Prompt is as follows:
> 
> Arthur/Merlin, slash or friendship. 
> 
> The two of them have been best friends for a long time, and they are used to having each other around much more than to not having, and they are always there for each other. But then one of them (doesn't really matter which one) starts a proper relationship, for the first time during the whole history of their friendship. The girlfriend/boyfriend is a nice person and everything is nice, actually, but the single one finds out that he can't have as much place in the other's life as he's had before. Like, no phone calls late 'cause it interrupts the couple snogging on the couch or being out somewhere, some small traditions destroyed 'cause relationship demands the day-to-day order of things to change, less attention, less interest in the single one. Generally, he gets unintentionally cut out and feels that he's losing his best friend.  
> He thinks it's alright, it's natural, and he backs off as much as he can. It all goes pretty fine until the single one gets into some serious trouble (it could be anything, from health to money, as long as it's serious), and there's no one to help him - now that he's alienated from his best friend, literally no one.  
> I'd totally love lots of angst and hopelessness. Happy ending is preferable, but not necessary.
> 
>  
> 
> Please keep in mind that I am painfully American :D So if the slang or terminology doesn’t quite flow… well, you know why. I try really hard though <3

“Come on then!” Arthur bellows into the quiet of the room and Merlin sits up so fast in bed that the room tilts and he has to brace himself with both hands against the mattress. Arthur just chuckles and tosses a pair of sweats at him. Gods Merlin hadn’t even changed out of his clothes from the night before. “Lazy sod. I will never understand why you are perpetually late for nearly everything, Merlin. We run every morning, have since as long as I can remember and you… why is it that I _still_ have to wake you up three out of five without fail?”

Merlin mumbles something rather colourful that Arthur can only just make-out and he watches as his best mate drops back down to the mattress, arms flung wide. Arthur snorts and shakes his head.

“Five minutes, Merlin. Don’t make me come back in here,” he warns then steps out into the hallway and pulls the door closed behind him. He hears Merlin literally stumble out of bed and smiles at the new rainbowed assortment of expletives that follows the thud.

Pleased, he moves down the short hallway, through the lounge, and into the kitchen. Merlin’s fridge isn’t stocked with much, but there’s enough orange juice left for a morning starter and Arthur pours it into a glass for him. Merlin’s out of the bedroom and wandering into the kitchen a few minutes later, hair sticking out at all angles. Arthur shakes his head as he hands him the juice. 

“You look fetching as always,” he teases and Merlin’s eyes narrow at him.

“Piss off, you. The sun isn’t even up yet.” 

And of course he’s right. The sun’s not popped its glowing head up over the horizon yet. Arthur can’t help that he has an early shift at the hospital though. Sometimes he feels bad about dragging Merlin along with him for his morning runs, but they’ve always run together and it would feel odd going without him. Besides, Merlin’s never complained and Arthur’s never really bothered to ask if it’s too much for him. 

He watches as Merlin guzzles the juice, still half-asleep, and some of it dribbles out of the corner of his mouth and down over the curve of his jaw. It’s wiped away with Merlin’s hand a moment later and the action leaves Arthur’s face twisted in a mask of amusement and disdain. Merlin yelps when the kitchen roll smacks into his forehead.

“Honestly, Merlin, I know for a fact you weren’t raised in a bloody barn. Would it kill you to clean yourself properly?”

Merlin just scowls at him darkly and tosses the kitchen roll back at him; which Arthur promptly dodges and neither of them bother with picking it up from where it’s landed on the floor.

“Didn’t get much sleep last night and right now I just can’t be bothered. Sorry,” Merlin grumbles and reaches over to place the empty glass in the sink.

Arthur cocks an eyebrow at him and crosses his arms over his chest. “We left the pub at the same time. Plenty of time for sleeping.”

Merlin smiles then, sheepishly, and there’s color rising in his cheeks. Arthur has to blink a few times at that and before he can really say anything, his friend is turning and heading out of the room. What? 

“Merlin?” Arthur snaps at him, following him out of the kitchen. Merlin ignores him and makes for the front door. 

If that look had been on anyone else’s face he would naturally assume that they’d either had a glorious shag the night before or had come really close. Not Merlin though. Not _his_ Merlin. Merlin is clumsy and dopey and always manages to cock it up somehow. In fact, Arthur can’t recall Merlin ever really dating anyone. Every time he’s even been approached he’s found a way to muck it all up. It’s endearing and pitiful all at the same time. More endearing than pitiful, but then Arthur is biased. Merlin’s been his best mate since secondary school and well, he’s sort of _his_ dope isn’t he?

He waits until they’re on the lift to ask again. This time Merlin can’t get away from him. “Out with it then. What was that look about? Did you stay up all night wanking to that gods awful fetish site you found online? I swear you and those perverted kinks of yours. I still don’t know if I’m happy knowing this about you. You realise that don’t you?” 

The pretty pink stain on Merlin’s cheeks spreads to his ears and he splutters out a few strangled words before reaching forward and pressing the lift button again. They’re already in motion and it won’t make the lift go any faster, but Arthur is guessing it’s something to do that isn’t dignifying Arthur’s accusations with a reply.

“You did, didn’t you?” Arthur muses and rolls his eyes. “I swear, Merlin, you need to find yourself a real shag and leave off on all that online crap. It’s pathetic really. I mean, you’re a fit bloke. Bit on the thin side if you ask me, but there’s no reason for you not to find yourself an actual _person_ to frot around with. Just, you know, don’t scare ‘em off with all that pervy junk you like to wank to.”

“I’m not a pervert!” Merlin snaps, his voice a little too high pitched in the small space and he stabs at the button again. “Just because… just… just because…” He stabs the button again for good measure. That apparently would teach the blasted thing to take its time.

Arthur is smirking and trying to fight the boisterous laugh that just really wants to come bursting out of his lungs. Merlin really is far too easy to torment. “You didn’t let some weird pervert tie you up and have his way with you last night did you?”

Merlin growls, rolls his eyes, and turns to look at him. “You really are an idiot aren’t you? Why do I put up with you again? I looked at that bloody site once. Once! That doesn’t make me a pervert. I was just curious okay! Not that it is any of your business.” 

“You’d be lost without me and you know it,” Arthur insists playfully and there it is, that cocky smile that shows up every time he’s feeling especially smug or proud of something. Merlin, trying to ignore him again, walks straight off the lift and heads for the entrance of his building. Arthur is right on his heels.

“Arthur, you’d get lost getting dressed in the morning if you didn’t have someone there to guide you through it,” Merlin quips as he pushes open the door and steps out onto the footpath. The park they frequent is only a few blocks up. “Can we just focus on the task at hand? I’m not nearly awake enough yet and I’d like to not fall flat on my face while running thanks."

“I do not have someone dress me in the mornings! That hasn’t happened since I was fifteen. Well, unless you count Sophia,” Arthur states with a naughty little lilt to his voice. “She was a crazy bird, I’ll tell ya, but gods was she an animal in the sack. Did more undressing than dressing.” 

Merlin shoots Arthur a sidelong, suffering glance and scowls. Arthur knows that the subject of Sophia bothers Merlin, but he can’t help bring her up sometimes. He tells himself it’s because it aides in the torture of his best mate. Really though, if he’s honest with himself, he likes the way Merlin sort of goes all clingy for a bit afterwards, like Sophia’s still there and she’s going to try and take Arthur away again. 

“She tried to kill you, Arthur. You nearly died. The crazy bint literally ran you down with your own car when you told her that it was over. How is it that you can still find something positive out of that… that… she was obsessed with you!” 

There’s a smile splitting Arthur’s face from cheek to cheek and Merlin looks as though he wants to thump him. “Yeah but imagine what all of that crazy was like when we were rolling around starkers. She was a real wild cat that one.”

“You’re off your nut, you know that? Seriously, what is my life that you are who I end up with for a best mate? My past life must have really gone tits up for me to get stuck here.” Merlin sounds so very disgruntled and Arthur can’t help but chuckle softly as they start out at a steady jog near the entrance to the park.

“So?” Arthur asks a few minutes later and Merlin just sort of blinks at him then stumbles over his own feet because he’d looked to Arthur and not kept his eyes on the path. Arthur’s hand shoots out lightning fast, grabs on to Merlin’s elbow, and steadies him before he goes face first into the dirt.

“So what?” Merlin asks once he’s found their rhythm again.

“Don’t ‘so what’ me, Merlin. What happened last night that you didn’t get any sleep?” Arthur is trying to give him that serious ‘Don’t you lie to me because I can see right through you’ face and Merlin, of course, gives in. 

“You’re getting worked up over a whole lot of nothing, Arthur. After I put you in the taxi home last night I thought better about driving myself. I wasn’t drunk, but I still didn’t want to risk it so I went back inside and asked Gwaine to call a taxi for me as well. We got to talking and honestly I just lost track of the time. Before I knew it his shift was ending, that was that, and he drove me home.” Merlin offers up a small smile and then turns his gaze back to the path as they go round one of the curves on the trail.

“That’s it?” Arthur asks; the confusion clear in his voice. “That’s what that blush was about earlier?”

Colour creeps into Merlin’s cheeks again and he turns his face away a little. It’s futile of course because Arthur notices right away and jumps all over it.

“Liar!” he accuses and points his finger at Merlin. “That’s not all of it is there? Did something…” Arthur’s voice trails off for a minute and he goes over the whole scenario in his head. Gwaine and Merlin, Merlin and Gwaine. They’ve known Gwaine for a few months now. Merlin had met him first when he’d gone down to a new pub a few blocks away. He introduced Arthur on the next visit and they’d all been more or less friendly with each other ever since. Surely they hadn’t…

Arthur stops so abruptly that Merlin stumbles again trying to stop and turn all at the same time. “Did you have sex with the barkeep?” Arthur asks; incredulous and maybe a little accusatory. His throat has gone a little tight and there's a nagging little voice in the back of his mind telling him why but he ignores it.

“What? No!” Merlin replies as he tries to catch his breath. "Nothing happened all right? He came up for a bit, we had a drink, and talked some more. Nothing happened.” 

Arthur doesn’t believe him, not with the way his mate’s been avoiding since he’d brought it up in the flat. “Why the blush then? When I asked you about last night you turned into a blushing little school girl with a secret. If _nothing_ happened then why that reaction?” 

Merlin looks indignant and frustrated. His face is twisting into an angry glower, the colour in his cheeks rising a little, and Arthur stays still as Merlin takes a step into him. “I am not a girl!”

“I know that you idiot! It was just a phrase,” Arthur says with a note of dismissal and a sigh. Why are they fighting all of the sudden? “What’s amusing though is that you missed the whole point of the conversation and focused on just that one bit.”

“Because I’m not a girl!”

“I know!” Arthur bellows back and god can he just reach out and shake Merlin until all of his brain cells start to function properly again? “That still doesn’t explain why you were blushing like you’d just been shagged within an inch of your life!”

The woman jogging her way towards them coughs and looks as though she’s trying very hard not to laugh as she goes around them. 

“Because nothing happened you great clotpole! Nothing nothing nothing! Forgive me if it’s just not every day that a man who looks like Gwaine falls asleep at mine! Or me with him for that matter! Doesn’t mean anything happened though.”

Wait… fell asleep at his? Arthur didn’t remember seeing Gwaine when he’d let himself into Merlin’s flat. Now he’s confused. Genuinely, honest to god confused. And a little put off if he's honest but... hold on! “We fall asleep at yours all the time.” It’s ridiculous really that Arthur takes a small hit to his pride from that. Wasn’t he just as good looking as Gwaine? More so even?

“Really, Arthur? _That’s_ what you took from all of that?” 

Arthur shrugs and tries not to look like someone’s just had a go at his manly bits. 

“Are we seriously having this conversation right now?” Merlin grits out between clenched teeth and drops his head back to look up at the brightening sky. “Look, I didn’t shag the barkeep. Okay? Gwaine and I were talking, it was late, we fell asleep in the lounge together. He woke me, probably just before you got there, and told me that he was leaving and I moved off into the bedroom. End of story.”

Arthur arches a brow at him, but he believes him and nods. It’s Merlin after all and he really doesn’t understand what has just happened here so he figures it’s best to just let it go. They’ve had far stranger rows than this one before. If this could even have been considered a row.

“Why don’t you just head back to yours? If you haven’t gotten any sleep then you don’t need to be out here on a run. I don’t want you making yourself ill,” Arthur says and turns back in the direction of the entrance.

“You’re not upset are you?” Merlin asks tentatively and Arthur shoots him a quick grin over his shoulder.

“No, Merlin. I'm not angry with you,” he assures him. “Come on you, let’s get you home and tucked in so that you can grab a few hours rest before you have to be at the shop.”

Merlin nods and falls into step beside him. “Why don’t you grab some takeaway for us and come round to the shop on your lunch break if you’ve got the time?”

“Yeah alright,” Arthur agrees and they head off back to Merlin’s.

 

*****

 

Arthur sighs and drops his head back against the wall outside the A&E. His body aches everywhere and he’s developing a bit of an ache between his eyes. The day’s been non-stop since he’d started his shift. They’re still going strong too and he’s only just managed a second to himself to ring Merlin and let him know that he won’t be able to make lunch. He’ll be lucky if he can even grab something here at the hospital. Or leave on time for that matter. 

Mobile in hand, Arthur hits the speed-dial for Merlin’s shop. He’s a bit disappointed with the turn of events, but it’s not the first time it’s happened and it certainly won’t be the last. He’s hoping that they can have dinner together though to make up for it, maybe have a pint afterwards.

“Thank you for calling The Ink Blot, how can we fuel your imagination today?”

Arthur chuckles and closes his eyes. “Have I ever told you how utterly ridiculous you sound when you answer the phone?” he asks. His free hand slips on to his stomach when it gives a nasty rumble and his fingers start doing lazy circles over the thin material of his scrub top. 

“Shut up you,” Merlin mumbles and Arthur can hear him settle back into the old, creaky rolling chair that his mate keeps behind the counter. “What do you want?”

“Mmm,” Arthur hums. He's suddenly more relaxed than he'd been a second ago. “I am currently in the middle of one of the busiest days we’ve had in a fortnight. I don’t think I’m going to be able to make lunch.”

Merlin’s huff is soft over the phone and Arthur can just see the accompanying pout that goes along with it. “I swear you never get any proper time to take care of yourself at that place. They can’t just expect you to starve while you work. It’s not natural. Don’t they know that denying their doctors food won’t help them care for their patients?”

“I think they just expect that we’ll figure it out on our own. Big boys and girls and all. I don’t have much time though. Only just managed to sneak out and ring you. Didn't want you to think I'd forgotten. I thought maybe we could reschedule for dinner or something? Maybe have a pint?”

Arthur hears the chair creak again over the line and then Merlin’s footsteps as he moves about the shop. “I suppose,” he grumbles and Arthur can’t stop the fond smile that curls the corners of his mouth. “Yours or mine?”

“Yours. I can just stop home long enough to grab a few things and then crash at yours for the night.” There’s a nurse popping her head out and glaring at him. Arthur gives her a little wave and pushes off the wall. “I’ll ring you when I’m leaving.”

“Make sure you eat something!” Merlin insists and Arthur promises to try and grab something if he can.

 

*****

 

Arthur’s in a mood. It’s Friday night, the week has only gotten crazier, and he’s just come from dinner with his father. Uther’s meddling again. His father can’t understand why Arthur is twenty-eight years old and still unwed. It’s the same conversation every time they see each other. 

_I don’t understand what the hold up is_ , _If it’s a matter of meeting the right girl I have several colleagues with perfectly lovely daughters_ , _You spend too much time with_ that boy _and not enough time focusing on your future_ , _Think of how it looks, Arthur! You and this… this, Merlin. He’s a homosexual. You can’t... the more time you spend with him the worse it looks._ , _He’s a bad influence on you and he’s holding you back! Can’t you see that?”_

Ugh! It makes his head ache is what it does. Arthur doesn’t want a wife. He doesn’t care if he’s getting older and he certainly doesn’t give a rat’s arsehole about propriety. He isn’t ready. Why can’t his father just accept that Arthur enjoys being unencumbered and that it’s going to be a long while before there will be any talk of marriage or grandchildren? He doesn't even want children for Pete's sake! He just wants... he wants everything to stay as it is. He needs it to. And why, why in the name of all that is holy, does he have to bring up Merlin every time they have a row about it?

The door slams behind him as Arthur stalks into his flat. He’s so very sick of this weekly battle of wills. He’s sick of the sheer level of bigotry when it comes to Uther. What does it matter that Merlin is gay? Just because Merlin’s gay and Arthur is his best friend, that doesn’t mean that Arthur, by default or by contagion, is or will become gay. It doesn't mean that he feels something he shouldn't! He doesn't! He just... doesn't. 

“Christ!” he snarls and yanks at the silk tie around his neck as if it’s what’s offended him.

“Well you’re in an even better mood than I thought you’d be in,” comes a voice to the left of him and Arthur whirls around, fist balled, ready to strike out at the intruder. Merlin holds up his hands in surrender and looks startled by Arthur’s violent reaction. “Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t mean to give you a start.”

Arthur visibly sags and eyes Merlin for a moment before turning towards the hallway. “It’s fine,” he sighs and yanks the tie off over his head. “I'm sorry. I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

He can hear Merlin’s footsteps following him into the bedroom. “I thought, I mean, I figured you might could use the company.” Merlin's voice is soft and full of concern and it takes the edge off of Arthur’s rage. Calms him completely. “I know how you get when you’re with him.”

Arthur’s jacket is lying on the foot of the bed now and he’s working on the buttons to his dress shirt. “He just makes me so furious! I’m so sick of trying to just spend time with him and getting lectured about my personal life in return. Why can't he just accept that I'm happy. I have the life I want.”

“Same ‘ol row then?” Merlin asks and Arthur nods.

They settle into a short silence while Arthur digs out a pair of black pajama pants and a worn thin Uni T-shirt. It only takes him a minute or two to change and once he’s done he gathers up his discarded suit and drapes the pieces over a high-backed chair in the corner of the room. It’ll need to be dry-cleaned later.

Merlin is leaning against the doorjamb watching him when Arthur turns around. He’s got his arms crossed over his chest and he looks rather guilty about something. That has Arthur’s problems instantly falling to the background.

“Are you alright?”

Merlin blinks slowly at him and then shakes his head. “I’m causing problems for you,” he says quietly and drops his gaze to the floor.

“What?” Arthur replies and can’t help but be taken aback by the comment. Merlin has never, in all the years that they’ve been friends, caused problems for him. Not like this at any rate. Sure, Uther wasn’t happy with their friendship, but it’s the best and most honest relationship that Arthur’s ever had in his life and he isn't about to lose it.

“Your father hates me, Arthur. I can’t help but think that maybe he’d back off you if… well if maybe I wasn’t around so much.”

That hits Arthur nearly as hard as a physical blow and he takes a step back because of it. No. Merlin isn’t allowed to say things like that. He’s not allowed to not be around. "Are you taking the piss right now?” he asks, not really believing what he’s hearing.

Merlin looks up at him at that and shakes his head. “Arthur, your father has hated me from the moment you brought me home on holiday. I think he actually felt violated somehow that you’d brought a queer, a common queer at that, into his home. He’s never gotten past it and he never will. I think it only angers him further that we’re still so close. In his mind, you should be out there furthering the Pendragon name, courting some beautiful woman, and making lots of babies. Not hanging about with me and wasting your life away.”

Arthur crosses the room in four steps and he’s suddenly gripping Merlin’s arms tightly, too tightly, and pulling him up from his slouch against the doorjamb. “I am not wasting my life by being around you. Do you hear me? You are my best friend, Merlin. You’re the only person in my life that I can actually count on to be honest with me. You’re the only one that keeps me grounded. I’m not… I’m not Arthur Pendragon, heir apparent to family fortune and fame when I’m with you. I’m just Arthur. My father can get his bits in a twist over you being queer if he wants, but it doesn’t bother me. You know it doesn’t bother me. I... I need you.”

“I know that, Arthur, but…”

“But nothing,” Arthur cuts across him and shakes his head. He drops his hands away from Merlin’s arms and takes a step back. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. You came here to cheer me up, yeah?”

Merlin nods at him and attempts what passes for a poorly offered up smile.

“Then cheer me up you tit. You’re stuck with me and that’s the end of it.”

Merlin’s smile grows a little wider and it almost, _almost_ , reaches his sad blue eyes. Arthur hates what Uther’s opinions and actions do to Merlin. It’s why Arthur stopped allowing the two of them in a room together a long time ago. Still, he knows that Merlin knows what the weekly dinners do to Arthur and he’s sure that he knows the gist of why it upsets him. If only he could wave some magic wand and make it all go away. If only he could make things simple for the both of them. Arthur likes simple. He likes things wrapped up nice and neat in a perfect little package, served up on a silver platter. Nothing has ever been simple between Merlin and him though. He doubts it ever will be.

 

*****

 

It’s two weeks later, late Sunday morning, and Arthur is dragging arse. He’d worked a double at the hospital, taking up the whole of his Saturday afternoon and night, and he’d slept for shite once he’d gotten home. He hates it when his schedule gets flipped around. He’s a doctor though and it comes with the territory. Everything’s stiff and he feels as though he’s been tossing and turning under the weight of a boulder. A hot shower and a run will probably loosen him up. 

After showering, brushing his teeth, and slipping into some comfortable running gear, Arthur grabs his mobile and heads into the kitchen. Merlin closes the shop on Sundays and he’s hoping that maybe if he has his mate on the run with him it’ll keep him motivated. Otherwise, he might just laze it out and lounge all day. Afterwards they can get tea and maybe watch a film or something before Arthur’s got to head back in to work again.

“Hullo?” The deep, sleepy voice that answers the phone is definitely not Merlin’s and Arthur frowns, his heart beating a little quicker. He pulls his mobile away from his ear, glances at the display to make sure he’s dialed the right number and then presses the phone back to his head when he sees that no, he didn’t misdial.

“Hullo?” The voice says again and one of Arthur’s eyebrows tries very hard to climb all the way up into his hairline.

“Is… Can you put Merlin on the phone please?”

The mystery man clears his throat and Arthur can hear the whisper of fabric moving in the background. “He’s sleeping,” the man whispers. “Is it important?”

Arthur’s blinking now and again he checks his phone to make sure that he’s dialed the right number. Who the hell? “I… just put him on the bloody phone will you? Tell him it’s Arthur.”

He’s answered with a deep, rumbling growl and then the sound of lips kissing skin. That makes Arthur blink again and suddenly he’s up and pacing stiffness be damned. 

“Merlin,” the voice murmurs softly and there’s the sound of lips meeting skin again. “Wake up, Luv. You’ve got a phone call. It’s your other half.”

Arthur’s fist tightens around his mobile and he can hear Merlin mumbling in the background, then there’s a throaty chuckle sounding in his ear, and then… “Hullo?”

Arthur can’t help himself. It just comes out before he can hit the edit button in his brain. “Who the bloody _hell_ is that? And what is he doing answering your phone?”

Merlin grunts and Arthur can hear him moving about. “Arthur? Gods what time it is?”

Arthur glances at the digital clock on the range, “It’s noon you pillock! _Who_ just answered your phone?”

“Will you calm down?” Merlin asks with a sleepy but patient tone.

“I am calm!” Arthur snaps out, disgruntled that Merlin still hasn’t answered him.

“Oh yes, very calm. Picture of.” Merlin sounds amused now and that just irritates Arthur more.

“You…” Arthur barks and turns so abruptly in his pacing that he nearly sprains his ankle. He winces, drops hard onto one of the barstools, and reaches down to rub at the hurt. “Fuck!”

“Are you all right?” Merlin asks and then Arthur’s eyes grow wide when Merlin’s breath hitches. He is very familiar with that sound and Merlin is not allowed to make it while on the phone with him. Hell, Merlin’s just not allowed to make that sound at all because it makes Arthur’s stomach churn in an unpleasant way that he’s just really not happy about.

“I’m fine. I just wanted to know if…” Merlin’s breath hitches again, so dangerously close to a moan, and Arthur nearly throws the phone across the room. “Are you having sex?” he blurts out and wants very much to just bleach his brain. His stomach is roiling now; his heart pounding in his chest. “Is he... is he shagging you while you’re on the phone with me?”

It takes Merlin a moment to answer and when he does his voice sounds strained, breathless. “What. Do. You. Want?”

Arthur’s hands are trembling and he shakes his head, then promptly regrets it and presses a hand to his forehead. “I just wanted to know if you wanted to go on a run with me, but it sounds as though you’re busy.”

Merlin whimpers, he _whimpers_ , and Arthur thinks he might just lose the contents of his stomach now. “Sorry.” Merlin’s voice is trembling, soft. Arthur thinks he wants to yell at him some more. How dare he have sex with someone while on the phone with him? Merlin was _not_ allowed to make _those sounds_. 

“Arthur?” Merlin calls, just _this_ side of a moan and Arthur really does have to stop himself from getting violent. This was not happening.

“What?” It’s the only word that Arthur can force out of his mouth and it comes out in a hard rasp. His face is hot, probably flushed a dark shade of pink and is he really sweating?

“Can we… uh! Fuck! Shite! Stop! God stop, you evil wanker!” Merlin’s voice cuts out for a moment and is replaced by the distant sound of deep, rumbling laughter, then he’s back. “Can we... do this later? Dinner... tonight... maybe?”

Arthur nods, realises that Merlin can’t see him, and that no, they can’t have dinner later. He’s got another shift at the hospital. “I’ve got work tonight," his own voice sounds very small for his liking. "I’ll just um… go. Sorry to... interrupt your little… you can just call me when your… friend, leaves.”

“Yeah,” Merlin breathes out, moans again, and the call ends.

Arthur yanks the phone away from his ear and stares at it as though it’s burned him. What the hell has just happened and why is he so thrown by it? Wasn’t he just giving Merlin a lecture on going out and finding a ‘real shag’? Isn’t he the one that’s been encouraging him? Yes, he is. So, right, yes… moving on. Good for Merlin. 

Arthur’s still frowning when he leaves his flat and heads off for his run, but yeah, he’s happy for him. Really. 

 

*****

 

“So?” Arthur says softly, maybe with just a small bit of petulance, though he’ll deny it with vigor if called out. He’s not seen nor heard from Merlin in days.

Merlin’s just looking at him with a fond expression and a bit of amusement in his eyes. “So… yeah, I shagged the barkeep. Several times over the course of the past few days. Well, he shagged me I suppose.” Merlin’s grin lights up his face and Arthur swears it doesn't make him nauceous that his friend looks really happy. “Rather brilliantly I might add. He’s also cooked me dinner. That was amazing too. And um...” He looks sheepish now, color flushing his cheeks. "Sorry, about the phone call."

Arthur tries not to pull a face, snorts instead, and places the book he’d picked up back down on the counter. Brilliant. Merlin and the barkeep are shagging. Arthur pulls himself up onto the counter and looks out the large shop window that’s currently showcasing two new bestsellers. There’s a small, twisting sensation in his gut and he wonders vaguely if perhaps he should have eaten before he’d come round. 

“Really? The barkeep?” he mumbles, ignoring his stomach. “I guess I just don’t see it.”

“Why not?” Merlin asks and he sounds a tiny bit offended by the statement. “Is it so hard to believe that he’d be interested in me?”

Arthur jerks his head around at that and looks at Merlin as though he’d suddenly sprouted a second head. “Of course not! I just, it’s hard to believe that _you’d_ be interested in someone like _him_. He’s a player, Merlin. You know, shag them and on to the next? Guys like that don’t do relationships. All they care about is getting off and getting out.”

“Like you,” Merlin slots in and Arthur draws back a little like he’s been hit across the face. Wow. That had been unexpected.

Merlin pales and reaches out to place his hand on Arthur’s knee. “I didn’t mean that. You know I didn’t.”

Arthur licks at his lips and nods his head. He knew he had a reptuation when it came to his private life, but Merlin had never thrown it in his face before. It hurts. But then, perhaps he is being a bit of a prick. What’s more is he knows he has no right to be a prick. This is a good thing. It's what Arthur wanted after all. Right?

He slides down off the counter and moves around until he’s standing at the first row of bookshelves. God why does he feel like a hormonal twelve year old all of the sudden? It’s ridiculous.

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt is all. You like him. I can see it. Guys like that though, they’re only good for fucking and breaking hearts. I don’t want to see him break yours.” It's amazing to Arthur how easily the lie comes and he refuses to acknowlege that he might sound more than a little like he's pouting.

He can hear Merlin moving around and then there’s a warm body being pressed in against his own and Merlin’s chin is settling on his shoulder. “I know you’re worried, but I’m a big boy. Okay? I can manage myself.” He huffs at Arthur’s half-arsed shrug and manhandles him until he is facing him. “How about this? I promise you can kick his arse if he breaks my heart.”

The corner of Arthur’s mouth trembles and then hooks up into a small half-grin. “I s’pose that’ll have to do. I don’t like it though.”

“Until then,” and Merlin punctuates each word with a swift jab to Arthur’s ribs, “you have to be nice. I’ve got a shot at something here and I think I’d like to take it. He really fancies me, Arthur, and...” Merlin pauses, his expresion uncertain for a moment and then is quickly replaced by a small smile again. "I'd just like to try is all. It's time I put myself out there."

Arthur rolls his eyes at Merlin and brings his hand up to rest on his mate’s shoulder. His stomach twists again, though the pain is a little higher this time and slightly to the left. “Of course he fancies you. He’d be blind and daft if he didn’t.”

Merlin’s goofy grin is back and well, that’s all it takes for Arthur. If dating Gwaine is what Merlin wants, if that’s what makes him happy, then that’s what Arthur wants too. Right?

“Does he know about your fetishes?” Arthur asks and grunts when Merlin punches him in the stomach.

“I do not have a…” The bell over the door ‘Tings’ to life as a customer walks in and Merlin’s denial dies a quick death. “Hullo!” he greets and Arthur is the one grinning from ear to ear now. “Welcome to the Ink Blot! How can we help fuel your imagination today?” 

Arthur mumbles something that sounds dangerously close to, “sound like such a knob”, under his breath and Merlin glares at him before going off to help the lady who’s just entered the store.

 

*****

 

“How long have they been dating now?” Lance asks and Arthur glances back over his shoulder. Merlin is cuddled up on a barstool, leaning forward over the bar, and laughing at something Gwaine is saying in his ear. 

“A few months,” Arthur replies and looks away, down at his drink. They were all supposed to be hanging out together tonight. Once a month, all their friends got together and they would catch up with how everyone’s lives were going.

Altogether there was Morgana, Leon, Percy, Elyan, Lance, Gwen, Vivian and Elena. Morgana was Arthur’s sister, well, half-sister and Leon used to be her husband. Leon, as well as Percy and Elyan were old friends of Arthur’s and Merlin’s from Uni. Lance was more Merlin’s friend than Arthur’s, but they got on well enough. He was married to Gwen, who happened to be Morgana’s best friend. Vivian and Elena had worked their way into their little group over time. Elena worked with Merlin at the bookstore and Vivian worked with Arthur at A&E. Arthur wasn’t especially close with either one of them. In truth, he wasn’t really close to any of them anymore. They were still friends sure, but really the only time he saw them, short of Vivian and Elena, was this once a month get together and even then not everyone made it.

“Looks serious,” Lance observes and the note of surprise isn't lost on Arthur.

He feels petulant again, like a damned little kid. “Apparently it is,” is his only response and he slouches further down into his chair.

He knows that he should be paying attention to what the others are saying, but he just can’t be bothered with it. He’s barely seen or talked to Merlin in weeks, work is taking it out of him, his father has been on his case non-stop, and now he’s fucking pouting because Merlin can’t detach himself from his stupid boyfriend’s bloody hip for two damnable seconds.

Of course, there’s that part of his brain that’s telling him he’s being irrational and stupid. He knows he is. Gwaine is a nice bloke, handsome, fit, and clearly he cares for Merlin. He makes him happy. That’s all that matters right? So what if Arthur isn’t seeing his best mate as much as he’d like to. Their relationship is just beginning and Arthur’s sure, once the new wears off, he’ll get some of that one on one time back. He’s never been good at being patient though. 

“You with us, Arthur?”

It’s Morgana’s voice calling him out and Arthur looks over at her. “Sorry, what?”

His sister gives him her patented smirk and leans in against the table. “You look like you’d rather be somewhere else tonight. Have you heard anything we’ve been saying?”

Okay, so ignoring his friends wasn’t the smartest thing in the world. “Sorry, guys,” he says with a slow, drawn out sigh and runs a hand back through his hair. “It’s just been a rough few weeks and my shift at the hospital was murder. I guess I’m just a bit out of it.”

Morgana’s head is tilted a little to the side and she’s staring at him. Those piercing blue eyes of hers are studying him like he’s one of her clients at the barrister’s office and she’s trying to gage whether he’s telling her the truth or not. Her gaze slips from Arthur, to something to the right of him, and then back again. She’s one of the few that knows him well enough to figure out that Merlin’s ditching them in favor of his new flame will really bother him. He doesn’t want to be called on it though so he excuses himself for the evening.

“I’m really sorry, guys. I guess I’m just more worn out than I thought I was,” he tells them and she’s smiling at him like she knows. It makes his stomach flip a little. He’s always hated that she can read him so well.

The others wish him a good evening and he promises that he’ll be livelier the next go round. Arthur leaves without letting Merlin know that he’s going. Why should he after all? The rest of them might as well not even be there.

 

*****

 

Arthur’s more than a little grumpy Monday morning when he lets himself into Merlin’s flat. Uther’s insisted on inviting a business associate and his family to their dinner on Friday night. Arthur knows what that means. It means that the man’s got a daughter around Arthur’s age and Uther is hoping that they’ll hit it off. Why couldn’t he just let the whole business go already? How many times did they really need to go round about this?

Some of his annoyance wanes though when he sees that the lights are still off in Merlin’s flat and clearly his friend isn’t up yet. They’d made plans just the day before to go running this morning and here that lazy sod was having a lie in. Some things didn’t change and it made Arthur smile. It felt like old times. Like things were right again. 

Arthur’s all the way down the hall and reaching for the doorknob when he hears the moan from the other side of the door. His hand freezes and he swears his heart seizes in his chest. Seriously? What kind of sick joke… The sounds of pleasured screams and flesh meeting flesh grow louder, too loud, and all Arthur can do is flee as quickly and as quietly as possible.

Arthur runs that morning, but he runs alone and he pushes himself harder and faster than he’s ever pushed himself in his life. And maybe, just maybe, he convinces himself that he’s not running from the sounds that he’s _not_ supposed to hear Merlin making when it’s just supposed to be the two of them, alone. No boyfriends. Just them. The way it used to be. The way... it shoulde be. Maybe, just maybe, he convinces himself that he’s still annoyed about his father and their altered dinner plans.

When Merlin rings him just as he’s slowing his pace and heading for the entrance to the park, Arthur tells himself that he’s ignoring the call because he’s too out of breath to speak. He can talk to Merlin later. No big deal. 

 

*****

 

“Where were you the other morning?” Merlin asks from where he’s sitting on Arthur’s sofa. “I’ve been trying to reach you for days.”

Arthur’s standing at the large window in his lounge that makes up the entirety of the wall and is staring out over the city. “I was there,” he tells him, no point in lying. “You were busy. Guess you forgot about the time.”

Merlin makes a choking sound and Arthur can hear the cushion of the sofa shifting beneath him. “I… you were there?”

Arthur simply nods. He’s moved passed angry and hurt to resigned and numb. The dynamics of their relationship are different now. Arthur’s reminded himself that he can’t just walk into Merlin’s flat any time he wants to anymore. He can’t just expect Merlin to be alone.

“Arthur…” Merlin starts and Arthur cuts him off.

“I should have knocked or something. Rang you to let you know I was there. It’s my fault.”

Merlin’s suddenly beside him and turning Arthur to face him. “Why didn’t you… I mean, you could have… Gods, Arthur, I’m so sorry. I just… time got away from us and when I realized… I did try to call though. I’ve been trying to reach you. Why… why haven’t you answered?”

His voice is small and unsure by the time Merlin finishes and all Arthur can offer is a fake smile. “I’ve just been busy is all. Nothing to worry about.”

Merlin frowns at him and he looks as though he’s trying to read Arthur’s face. Arthur’s got his expression schooled to cool indifference though and after a moment he turns back to the view of the city.

“Did you need something today?” he asks and tucks his hands into his pockets.

Merlin steps closer, close enough that Arthur can feel the warmth of him sinking right down into his bones. He used to like having him that close. It was comforting. Now he has to control the urge to step away from him.

“Are you angry with me?”

_Yes,_ Arthur's mind hisses, but he shakes his head. “No, Merlin. I’m not angry with you. I told you, it’s just been crazy lately and well, I figured we all needed some space.”

“You need space from me?” 

Merlin sounds a little lost and Arthur clears his throat before speaking because he knows his voice will betray him if he doesn’t. “You’ve been busy. I just thought… look, I’m not angry with you okay? Everything’s fine.”

Merlin nods, steps closer if that's possible, and then tucks himself under Arthur’s arm. Arthur goes stiff for a moment, Merlin tenses with him, and then Arthur’s sighing and tightening his arm around him. It hurts a little; having him here like this when he’s been so distant. It’s bitterness. Arthur knows that. He’s bitter that Merlin’s apparently found something in Gwaine and Arthur just isn’t that important anymore. He's bitter that their perfect world had been dumped on its head. But then, perhaps it was only perfect to Arthur. He’s also trying to be understanding because he cares about Merlin and he really does want him to be happy. It’s hard though and he doesn’t always get it right.

“You feel like watching a video maybe?” Merlin asks softly. “I could raid the kitchen and cook us something.”

“You sure you don’t have plans?” Arthur’s voice sounds cold and flat even to his own ears and he regrets even opening his mouth. Merlin’s here and that’s all that matters.

“These are my plans,” Merlin replies; something insistant in his tone, pleading almost.

Arthur squeezes him in tighter against him and nods when Merlin’s arms slip around his middle. “Okay then.” He swears he's not clinging to him. 

 

*****

 

Her name is Mithian Nemeth. She’s sweet and beautiful, graceful when she moves, and Arthur’s surprised that he gets on with her as well as he does. Before, when his father had attempted to arrange a pairing for him, it had always ended in either boredom or disaster. Mithian is different from the others though. Arthur and her actually have things in common. They can hold an actual conversation without one of them having to search desperately for a topic that will interest the both of them. 

She’s not your typical “lady” and once they’ve spent a few hours in each other’s company, he feels like he can be himself around her. Mithian’s a pediatrician and they spend endless hours talking about medical school, long hours, and the crazy things they see in their day to day lives. She’s also a fan of cheesy action flicks, Italian takeaway (which just happens to be Arthur’s favorite) and football. He doesn’t think he’s ever met a more perfect woman.

By the end of his father’s “arranged” dinner, Arthur asks Mithian if she’d like to have dinner with him again, away from their fathers. She agrees and he thinks that maybe things are looking up a bit. Arthur tries to ring Merlin and tell him how surprising it’s all turned out, but Merlin and Gwaine are in the middle of a video and Merlin asks if he can call him later. Arthur tells him not to worry about it, it wasn’t important. 

What bothers him more than Merlin’s lack of interest is the fact than when Arthur tries to think of someone else to ring and share the amazing news with, the list comes up empty. It hits him like a blow to the gut. Merlin is the only one he confides in. He’s known that for a long time, but he really didn’t have any other friends that he could just ring up and share good news with. He just wasn’t close to anyone anymore. His life consisted of work, Merlin, and Friday night dinners with his father. How very sad and pathetic he is.

 

*****

 

“So my father discussed something with me that I think you might find interesting,” Mithian tells him one night over dinner. They’ve been seeing each other for two months and for all intents and purposes, it’s going brilliantly. They fit on almost every level. It’s perfect really. 

“What’s that?” he asks.

“Well,” she says, smiling her sweet, beguiling little smile and he arches a brow at her when she reaches over and takes his hand in hers. “He’s thinking he’d like to have a bit more free time to do some traveling with my mother. For that to happen he’ll need to hire another doctor to take over his patients for him. I don’t know how you feel about private practice, but I imagine the hours would be a far sight better than those at A&E and it’ll certainly be better pay.”

Arthur’s speechless. He’s thought of going into private practice of course, but he’s always assumed it would be later on in his career. Going in now, it would almost feel like he’s not done paying his dues. He even actually likes the challenge of working at the hospital. He never knows what’s going to come through the doors on any given night and yeah, the hours are horrid, but… would he be bored if he worked anywhere else? 

There’s also the issue of working for Mithian’s father and while he gets along just fine with the man, would both their families see this as just one more step closer to their inevitable nuptials? Arthur likes Mithian, cares for her deeply, but he’s not in love with her. Not yet. The idea of it sends his mind reeling. 

The sound of her laughter pulls him from his frantic thoughts and Arthur blinks at her in surprise. “It’s just a job offer, Arthur. I’m not asking you to pick out a ring or shop for china patterns.”

“Right,” he huffs and feels heat blossoming in his cheeks. How embarrassing. He should know her better than that by now. “Sorry, I just, I appreciate the offer. I do. I have thought about moving on to private practice eventually, but I’m just not sure that now’s the time. I don’t want to give our fathers any ideas either. Even if your father doesn’t expect anything from the gesture, my father will and I care for you, Mithian. You are going to make the perfect wife and mother one day. I just... don’t know if I’m ready for it yet.”

“Oh, Arthur,” she murmurs and moves around the table so that she can set herself down in his lap. “I know our fathers are pushing for a marriage between the two of us and they can be, well, overzealous. Please believe me when I tell you that none of that pressure is coming from me. I care for you too, but if you eventually ask me to marry you, Arthur, I want it to be because you love me. I need for it to be real. I don’t want to live a lie any more than you do.”

Arthur smiles up at her, smoothes his hands up her sides, and tugs her down into a soft kiss. “Sometimes I think you’re too good to be true, you know that?”

Mithian smiles against his lips and is opening her mouth to reply when the sound of the front door opening and closing interrupts. Both of them look to each other, confused, and then Mithian is crawling from Arthur’s lap. He’s only just standing himself when a puffy faced, sniffly Merlin comes around the corner. Both he and Arthur freeze, Arthur staring at Merlin, and Merlin looking back and forth between Arthur and Mithian.

“What…” “I’m sorry…” Merlin and Arthur say at the same time and then Merlin is shaking his head and turning around.

“Merlin!” Arthur calls after him and moves quickly away from the table to follow him.

Merlin is rushing for the front door and Arthur only just makes it in time to push it closed before the other man can escape. “What the hell, Merlin?” he breathes out and Merlin shakes his head and drops it forward to press against the door.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I should have knocked.” He sniffles again and seems to curl in around himself. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Darling?” Mithian calls from behind them. “Is everything okay?”

Merlin straightens at the sound of her voice and looks to Arthur before Arthur can respond to her. Merlin’s eyes are red and swollen; he looks as though he hasn’t slept in days, and no matter what’s happened between them Arthur doesn’t have the heart to turn him away. He leans in, kisses Merlin’s forehead, and turns him around.

“Go get yourself cleaned up and I’ll put the kettle on,” he tells him. “She’ll understand.”

“Arthur…” Merlin’s voice cracks and he clears his throat to try again. “I don’t want to ruin your evening. You don’t have to send her off. I can go. Honest.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Arthur tells him, tone firm. “Clearly something’s happened and I’m not going to just turn you out when you’re this upset. Mithian will understand. In fact, if she knew you, she’d probably want to take care of you herself. Now go.”

Merlin nods and sniffs again before heading off towards the bedroom. Arthur heads back towards the kitchen and smiles when he sees Mithian standing just beyond the entrance way. 

“So that’s the Merlin you’re always talking about,” she says and Arthur feels himself blush. Surely he doesn’t talk about him that much. “Everything all right?”

Arthur shakes his head. “Not really, no. I’m sorry but I need to cut our evening short. He’s really upset and I need to look after him. Can I call you tomorrow?”

She’s got this knowing, almost resigned look on her face that makes Arthur feel instantly guilty. The look is gone as fast as it arrived however and she leans in to kiss him softly on the lips.

“Go take care of your friend. We’ll talk later.” She kisses him again and a knot loosens in his stomach that he hadn’t realised was there a moment ago. 

He watches her gather her things, then walks her to the door and kisses her one last time before she leaves.

 

*****

 

Merlin’s curled up on Arthur’s bed and is fast asleep by the time Arthur finishes cleaning up in the kitchen and getting the tea together. The sight of him is sweet and heartbreaking. Never, since Arthur has known him, has Merlin looked so small and fragile. There’s peace in his sleeping face as well though and Arthur’s glad for that. If Gwaine’s hurt him, if that bastard is the one who’s made Merlin cry, Gods help the man when Arthur gets his hands on him. The anger is there so quick and so powerfully that Arthur’s hands shake, causing the tea cup to rattle against the saucer. The sound is soft enough that it doesn’t disturb Merlin, but Arthur still sets both cup and saucer aside on the bedside table.

Carefully, Arthur crawls onto the bed and settles himself against the headboard. There will be a lot of questions come morning and he hopes that Merlin will be willing to answer them. If nothing else, his mate has always been good at avoidance. He’s come to Arthur at least and that is something. Maybe somewhere in the lost layers of their friendship there’s still something to hold on to. The thought makes Arthur smile and his chest aches for it. 

Merlin shifts in his sleep, seemingly in distress, and Arthur reacts. He doesn’t think about it, he just reaches out and runs his fingers back through Merlin’s messy head of dark hair. His fingertips find scalp and he massages what he hopes are soothing circles down the curve of his skull. Merlin settles soon enough, but Arthur continues to pet him. 

Everything in his life has felt so disjointed and empty and it stings that this now, the two of them together, is what feels right. Part of him wants to run. He doesn’t understand it. Never has. Yes, Merlin is his best mate and he shares everything with him. So what if their relationship is a little different? With any other man, Arthur wouldn’t feel comfortable touching him the way he automatically touches Merlin. He certainly wouldn’t have a welcoming attitude if another man touched him so freely either. What does that say about them? What does that say about _him_ in particular? The truth, of course, is there at the back of his mind and he ignores it. He's been ignoring it for years.

Arthur’s eyes track the progression of his fingers through Merlin’s hair. The gesture is soft and gentle, full of affection and comfort. He wants to make Merlin feel safe and loved. Safe… and loved. It’s like a sucker punch to the system and Arthur jerks his hand away like he’s been stung. Merlin whimpers, distressed, but Arthur just shakes his head like he can clear the thoughts he’d just been thinking. He’s off the bed and across the room before he can really breathe properly and Gods, what the hell? What the hell? What the hell? He can't do this now! He's already delt with this a long time ago!

“Arthur?” Merlin’s sleepy voice calls and Arthur jerks around fast enough to leave him canting to the side, his balance thrown off and barely recovered. Merlin is sitting up and rubbing at one eye with the ball of his hand. 

“Go… go back to sleep, Merlin,” Arthur chokes out. 

This is not happening right now. Maybe, maybe it’s just because he’s missed him so much. They’ve barely spoken in months and now Merlin’s here and yeah, he’s just confusing his emotions. Mithian had been here as well too and they’d been on their way to something much more intimate to close out the evening. The arousal was just lingering from the moments he’d been sharing with her. Only, he isn’t aroused right now. He’s freaking the hell out.

“Arthur.” Merlin’s voice is soft and close and there’s a warm hand on his side. When did Merlin get so damned close? When had he even gotten off the bed? “What’s wrong? You look like someone’s just walked over your grave.”

“I…” The words, any words, dry up and die a slow death on his tongue. The warmth from the hand on his side is soaking into his skin and Arthur has to fight not to slap it away. Merlin came here because he was upset and hurting him isn’t exactly going to make it better. That’s it! Merlin was upset! If he focuses on that… just… focus on that.

“Are you, do you feel any better now?” he asks and his voice is a little shaky but at least he can speak.

Merlin’s hand drops away and he huffs out a small, empty laugh. “I’m not sure actually. I just sort of feel numb at the moment. I s’pose numb is better than crying hysterically and full of snot though.”

Arthur can’t help it, he snorts at the comment and thanks whatever god is listening that some of the tension eases as well. “Yes, let’s try not to get your snot all over my expensive duvet shall we?”

Merlin rolls his eyes and punches Arthur gently in the side. “Prat.”

“So I’ve been told.”

This is better. This is them. Arthur guides Merlin back over to the bed and pulls back the duvet for him. “You ready to tell me what happened now?” Merlin just nods while he tucks him in and then Arthur moves away so that he can get himself ready for bed. 

“We had a fight,” Merlin tells him, his voice so soft that Arthur can barely understand him. “It was a stupid fight. So stupid. I haven’t been... Gwaine says I haven’t been myself lately. He thinks…” 

He falls silent for a long moment and Arthur has to turn around and check to make sure that he’s not fallen asleep on him. He’s not asleep though. He’s sitting up in bed, the duvet pooled around his hips, and he’s looking at him. Arthur’s already changed into a pair of red pajama pants and he’s got his T-shirt in hand. The attention causes Arthur’s stomach to churn a little and he quickly pulls the T-shirt over his head. Merlin seems to snap out of whatever trance he’s fallen into and is clearing his throat.

“Gwaine thinks I’m depressed. He says I’m withdrawn and sullen. He says that whenever I’m at the pub with him, I don’t ever talk to him anymore. I just sit over in one of the booths and nurse a pint all evening long. I told him that I would sit and talk with him if he wasn’t so busy flirting with every pretty face that came up to the bar. I can barely get out two words when I’m with him there before he’s cutting me off and talking to someone else. And yes, I understand that he’s the barkeep and he has to serve the customers. His definition of serving the customers and mine are two very different things though.”

Arthur’s sliding onto the bed next to him now and Merlin turns to face him. “You know he said that I don’t enjoy the sex as much as he does? I mean seriously? I don’t enjoy the sex? The sex is brilliant! I love the sex! He says I’m not into it enough though. I’m not there with him completely. He says my head is somewhere else. I told him I’d keep that in mind the next time I had my head bobbing between his fucking legs.”

“Merlin!” Arthur’s hands are shaking again, he feels slightly nauseous, and he so does not want to hear anymore details about their sex life. As it is, he really just wants to erase the last five minutes of his life and start again.

Merlin seems to realise what he’s just been going on about and a light shade of pink tints his cheeks. “Sorry,” he mumbles and Arthur nods. 

“It’s fine, uh, so you had a row and then what? You left?”

Merlin seems to deflate a little and he sinks back against the headboard. “I left. He told me that he couldn’t be with someone who was so insecure and wasn’t even fully invested in the relationship in the first place.”

The importance of the words seem to sink into Arthur’s head slowly and when the full weight of them is sat directly in his lap, he frowns and looks as though he doesn’t understand really. “He broke things off? Is he mad?”

Merlin’s caught halfway between sobbing and laughing at the moment and Arthur thinks it’s just about the most pathetically adorable thing he’s ever seen. There’s a bit of shuffling beneath the duvet, but before he can stop himself Arthur’s tugging Merlin in close and wrapping his arms around him. Merlin cuddles in closer and tucks his head under Arthur’s chin.

“Of course he broke it off. Have you not heard anything I’ve been saying? Would you want to be with someone who is apparently physically and emotionally unavailable?”

It seems to Arthur that the world has lapsed into some alternate dimension and this is not his Merlin and the Gwaine that this Merlin is talking about isn’t the same bloke he’s seen _his_ Merlin falling all over himself for. 

“I know we haven’t been around each other much lately, well at all really, but the last time I checked you spent every waking minute of every day shoved up your dear Gwaine’s arse. I can’t even get two seconds with you anymore because you can’t be arsed to drag yourself away from the bar for long enough to tell me to sod off.”

“Not helping,” Merlin mumbles and Arthur takes a deep breath to rein himself in.

“Right. Sorry,” he says and sighs. “What I’m trying to say is, he’s mad if he thinks that you aren’t invested in the relationship. I know for a fact that you are. Believe me.”

Merlin’s shifting again, rising up so that’s he’s turned and practically straddling one of Arthur’s thighs. Suddenly their faces are too close for Arthur’s comfort and the gentle, warm pressure from Merlin’s hand on his chest isn’t doing his breathing any favors. 

“Arthur,” Merlin whispers. The man’s thumb is doing slow, lazy strokes against Arthur’s chest that makes the world a bit fuzzy around the edges. “I’m sorry that I’ve been such a shite friend.”

“Merlin, don’t,” Arthur tells him and he’s trying to ease some more room between them with the push of his hands on Merlin’s shoulders.

“No I mean it,” Merlin insists and pushes back in. “You don’t deserve this, me crashing back into your life because I’ve got trouble with my boyfriend. I can’t even imagine what you must think of me right now.”

Arthur snorts and runs a hand back through his own hair. The world is fucking with him. It has to be. If only Merlin really knew what Arthur thought about him. If only he could actually tell him. But then, what would that do their friendship? Merlin was only here because Gwaine and he were fighting. Merlin was upset and missed his boyfriend. Now isn’t the time to take advantage of a bad situation and he isn’t even sure he wants to. These feelings are not something he wants to deal with again. They are overwhelming and painful and... and... wrong.

“Arthur,” Merlin murmurs and presses gently against his chest. Arthur blinks at him stupidly. “Where’ve you gone? I keep losing you.”

“I’m here,” Arthur replies and blows out a breath he doesn’t realise he’s been holding. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” The request is softly spoken and one that Merlin’s made of him many times over the years they’ve known each other. Arthur’s never been good at sharing his feelings. Unless it came to his father and then, well, the anger was enough that it had always left Arthur’s words free flowing.

“I… can’t,” he says, voice deflated and probably sounding a little lost.

Merlin shifts against him, settles more onto Arthur’s thigh, and he crosses his arms over his chest. “Don’t you trust me anymore?”

Arthur’s eyes go wide at that. “Of course I trust you! I just… this isn’t even about me. We’re talking about you tonight.” Ah the amazing graces of deflection.

“How can I talk to you when you’re only halfway listening to me?” Merlin snaps out a little grumpily.

Bristling, Arthur’s voice goes up a notch. “I am listening to you, you insufferable… Gods I swear you make me mental sometimes!”

Merlin’s lips press into a thin line and he’s glaring now, unconvinced. “How can you be listening to me if you’re lost in that hard head of yours?”

“I’m not! Oh for the love of…” 

Arthur acts. He doesn’t think about it, doesn’t try to roll it over in his head a few dozen times. He simply reaches out, twists one hand in the front of Merlin’s T-shirt, cups the back of the man’s neck with the other, and drags him down into a kiss. It’s not much in the way of an amazing kiss. It's just a hard, angry press of lips and Merlin’s tense against him, but Arthur doesn’t let go. Arthur’s heart is pounding painfully in his chest. It drowns out the sound of everything except the blood rushing through his ears. The kiss only lasts maybe five seconds, but it’s the longest five seconds of his life.

They’re staring at each other now, blue eyes blinking owlishly. Merlin’s fingers have drifted up to his mouth and there’s a pretty pink stain forming on those sharp cheekbones of his. “What… what was that?”

Arthur shrugs one shoulder like it’s no big deal when really he just wants to lock himself in a closet and never come out again. What the hell did he just do? “You wanted to know what I was thinking about. 

“You were thinking about kissing me?”

Arthur shifts uncomfortably but can’t do much because Merlin’s still sitting on his leg. “Look, I know its wrong okay. I shouldn’t have kissed you. You were angry with me though and insisting and…” Arthur can’t finish his babbling apology because now _Merlin’s kissing him_.

The kiss is gentle and hesitant and Merlin’s lips are unbelievably soft. It lasts longer this time and Arthur’s losing himself in the way it feels. Merlin’s lips have captured Arthur’s bottom lip and he’s suckling on it. The second kiss surrenders to a third and Arthur’s hands have found their way to Merlin’s hips. He’s pulling him forward, tugging him in tightly against him and fuck all if the world doesn’t just melt away at the warm weight and smell of him. 

Arthur’s teeth find Merlin’s bottom lip and he nips at it. Merlin gasps and Arthur’s tongue is thrusting into the hot, wet cavern of his mouth. It’s like scalding, sweet electricity pumping through his veins and Arthur thinks his head might explode from the wonder of it. His whole face is burning and he knows that even if he sat here all night kissing and holding Merlin that it wouldn’t even begin to be enough. There is no enough now. There’s only the growing burn of the fact that he’s holding his best mate in his arms and snogging him like Merlin’s air and Arthur’s been holding his head under water his whole life.

It’s not until they’re pulling apart for air and resting their foreheads together that he realises Merlin is slowly rolling and grinding his hips in against him. Merlin’s hands are clinging to him, gripping at his shoulders and neck so tightly that Arthur fears bruising and yes, gods just like that is all he can think. He's so very hard and it's driving him insane.

“Arthur,” Merlin whimpers. Begs.

They should be taking this slowly. Arthur doesn’t even know what _this_ is, but he knows that they should be taking it slowly. Probably shouldn't be doing it at all. Definitely shouldn't. There’s years of friendship to consider, the ugly, nauseating factor of a certain boyfriend, and Mithian. While Arthur doesn’t give a toss about Gwaine, he should very much be considering Mithian’s feelings because even if they aren’t really serious, they are together and he can't do this to her. 

“Don’t you dare,” Merlin growls and Arthur gasps at the hand that has magically appeared in his pajama pants and is squeezing his prick. He has to grit his teeth to keep from coming right then and there. “Don’t you dare leave me alone here like this.”

Arthur’s mouth is working silently and he’s blinking, trying to remember how to form coherent thought. “Not,” he gasps and drops his head back against the headboard. “Not leaving you. Just… _Merlin_.”

“Just nothing. No more thinking.” Merlin squeezes him again and starts to stroke his hand up and down slowly. Arthur’s fingers dig into Merlin’s backside and he swears it’s not him that’s making that ridiculous keening noise. 

It’s not right. No matter how much he wants this, it shouldn’t be happening this way. “Merlin,” Arthur grits out between clenched teeth and forces his body to go still.

“No,” Merlin snaps at him and he’s shaking his head, pumping Arthur faster. “No.”

“Merlin, please,” Arthur gasps and lifts him, hefts Merlin’s thin frame up out of his lap and sets him to the side. His prick is all but screeching at him, already bereft at the loss of Merlin’s warm hand. “Please we can’t just… it’s not right.”

Arthur needs to move, needs to put some space between him and the body he’s craving so much so he all but shoves himself off of the bed. He feels Merlin’s hands grab at the back of his T-shirt, but they don’t slow or stop him. Arthur will regret this later. He knows he will. It’s the right thing to do though and damn it all it _hurts_. Sod always needing to do the right thing. He hates the right thing. Only... he still can’t make himself go back because it isn’t right and isn’t he just digging his way down to his own little corner of hell?

“I’m such a fool.” Merlin’s voice is quiet and broken. He’s curled in on himself, arms wrapped around his knees that he’s drawn up to his chest. There are tears on his cheeks and the sight of him is nearly enough to have Arthur crawling right back to him. He’s not sure what he’d do once he has him in his arms again though and that scares him.

“You’re not a fool, Merlin.”

“Oh but I am,” Merlin says, nodding. “I’m a fool. I thought… for a moment there…”

“What?” Arthur asks and steps back in so his thighs are pressed against bed, but he doesn’t climb on. “What did you think?”

Merlin looks at him and those sad, resigned blue eyes cut right through him. “That you might…”

The shrill sound of Merlin’s mobile going off cuts through his words and Arthur knows that it’s shattering the delicate balance they have between them. Merlin stares at him for another long moment before scrambling out of bed and fishing for his jacket on the floor. 

“Ignore it,” Arthur says softly. “Please.”

Merlin’s got the mobile in his hand, glances from the lit screen to Arthur’s face and then accepts the call. “Hey,” he breathes into the phone and Arthur nods slowly before turning and walking out of the room.

 

*****

 

When Merlin finally emerges from the bedroom, he’s wearing his jacket and he’s got the bag he’d brought with him slung over his shoulder. Arthur’s curled into the side of his sofa, legs drawn up, and he’s been catching bits and pieces of Merlin’s conversation for the past hour. Apparently Gwaine and Merlin have come to some sort of reconciliation. Brilliant.

He hates them both.

“That’s it then?” he asks and Merlin at least has the decency to look a little guilty.

“He apologized,” is Merlin’s reply. Arthur has to work at it to not let the sudden bubbling of hysterical laughter explode from his lungs. It makes his eyes water. “He said he misses me and he wants me to come back. Says he wants to work things out.”

The sting of the words is enough for Arthur to drag his gaze away from Merlin and plant his eyes on the wall in front of him. “And you’re going?”

“I love him, Arthur.” The words are whispered but they’re loud enough to Arthur that he wants to cover his ears. They carve something out of him that he knows he'll never get back. 

That's it then.

Athur's nodding, but doesn’t realise he’s actually doing it until he’s been doing it for too long. The growing ache in his chest is getting worse, heavier, and he wonders if it’ll be strong enough to crush his ribs. It certainly feels that way.

“And what just happened with us? It doesn’t mean anything?”

The sofa dips at Arthur’s hip and he closes his eyes when he feels the warmth of Merlin settle in against his side. “It was a mistake, Arthur, and I think we both know that if you really wanted to be there with me, you would have been. I get it though. I understand. You were trying to comfort me and I guess you thought kissing me was the best way. I lost my head a bit though and took it too far. I’m sorry for that.”

“Ha!” The burst of hysterical laughter does come then and Arthur has to move. He needs for Merlin to stop touching him. He needs to put as much space as possible between them because it feels as though all of his internal organs are twisting in on themselves and he just might die if he can’t.

“Is that what you really think of me?” Arthur asks from his new position across the room. “Do you really think that I kissed you because I thought it would make things better?! How is this fucking better?!”

Merlin’s on his feet and he’s throwing his arms out to his sides. “I don’t know, Arthur! It seems to be how you solve every other intimate situation in your life! Throw your cock at it and all’s better! You even still joke about sex with the woman who tried to kill you. It’s what you do! Why should I be any different?”

The words slice through him like blades and he must be bleeding. Has to be because he feels like he's dying.

“Fuck you!” Arthur bellows and the exclamation is so thunderous that he rocks on his feet where he stands. “Fuck you, you utter bastard,” he growls softer a moment later. “I kissed you because I _wanted to_. I kissed you because I realised how much I missed you, _needed you_. And the only reason I stopped you is because hey, silly me, I wanted the first time I made love to you to actually mean something. I wanted it to be just us in that room. I wanted… I didn’t want you on the rebound. I didn’t want you confused and hurting, you fucking arsehole!”

Merlin looks as though he’s just been struck across the face and Arthur feels as though he’s going to vomit. Nothing has ever hurt this badly before. He feels like he’s breaking, right there in front of Merlin, and there’s nothing he can do to hold the crumbling pieces of his life together anymore.

“Arthur,” Merlin chokes, takes a step towards him, and Arthur takes a step back.

“Piss of home will you,” Arthur forces out and hates how badly his voice shakes. “We’re done here.”

“No, _Arthur_ ,” Merlin whimpers and tries to move towards him again.

“Please!” Arthur screams and stumbles back; the only thing saving him from crumpling to the floor is the wall behind him. “Just fuck off back to your perfect life and your perfect boyfriend and leave me the hell alone! You’ve been good at that for month’s now! I’m sure you remember how.”

Merlin shrinks back, does as Arthur asks and the second Arthur hears the door close he's screaming. He screams and screams; rages until his throat is raw and then he’s sliding to the floor, exhausted. He sits that way for hours, arms wrapped around himself, and he rocks himself through the pain and the tears until exhaustion carries him away to someplace he can be numb for a while.

 

*****

 

The next morning Arthur wakes on the floor to stiff joints, a raging headache, and the sound of his mobile ringing. He lets it ring. There’s no one he wants to talk to. He’s debating whether to move at all. He doesn’t want to, but his headache is getting worse and he knows that if he doesn’t take something now, it’ll turn into a migraine. 

Once he’s finally on his feet, Arthur moves through his morning on autopilot. He takes something for his head, showers, dresses, and then makes breakfast. It’s a simple breakfast; toast with jam, a few strips of bacon, eggs, and tea. He sips at the tea, stares at his plate for half an hour, and then his cold, untouched meal ends up in the bin. 

Work ends up being sixteen hours of one blurred together moment after another. He knows he should have fobbed off considering, but he’s hoping that the distraction will be good for him. Gods only knows what he’d do if he’d left himself to his own devices locked away in his flat. 

This goes on for well over a fortnight and Vivian’s shooting him odd glances here and there, but he ignores her in favor of closing himself off inside his own head. Even when they are sat down at a table together for lunch, he just nods when she speaks, not really caring what he’s agreeing to. 

“So you’ll come to mine then?”

Her words seep through the labyrinth of thoughts Arthur’s been playing on loop and he blinks at her. “What?”

Vivian rolls her eyes at him and shoots him a clearly annoyed expression. “For dinner? Tomorrow night? Our monthly get together? You've not been in a while and I’ve got some new recipes that I want to try out. Everyone else has already agreed.”

What a tremendously horrid idea. Dinner with a bunch of people he no longer feels tethered to; questioning glances, things he can’t explain nor does he want to. He also adamantly, vigorously refuses to sit there and watch Merlin and Gwaine fawn all over each other like a couple of lovesick fools. He finds the idea of it all repulsive and discovers that he has to work at swallowing all of the sudden.

“No,” he hears himself saying and he shakes his head. “Sorry, Viv, I can’t. Will you send the others my apologies?”

Vivian frowns at him and she’s glaring at him the way his sister always glares at him. What is it with bloody women and always trying to read his blasted mind?

“There’s something off with you, Pendragon. Don’t try to deny it. You’ve been walking around like a zombie for weeks now. You’ve got dark hollows under your eyes, you’ve lost weight, I will bet money that those are the same scrubs your wore yesterday, and the only words that I hear coming out of your mouth anymore are strictly to do with work.” She leans in against the table and grabs at his wrist before he can make a run for it. “Talk you. Now.”

“It’s nothing, Viv. I swear. I’m just… I’ve just got a lot going on is all,” he tells her and even to him it sounds weak.

“Bollocks! Is it Mithian? Have you two fallen out already?”

“No, of course… wait,” Arthur stares at her, shocked and more than a little confused. “How did you know about Mithian?”

She returns his confusion with a look of, ‘Please, do you really think I can’t find these things out?’ “Morgana told me.”

“And how the hell did Morgana find out?”

“Gwen.”

Arthur’s jaw works and he suddenly wonders if everyone in his life is privy to his personal relationships. He doesn’t need to ask though because Vivian offers up the answer without any prodding. 

“Gwen and Mithian work together.”

“Oh,” is all he can say and she finally let’s his wrist go. Arthur’s not going anywhere now and she knows it. “My father wants me to marry her.”

“And what do you want?” she asks and sips on her tea.

A small smile trembles its way onto his lips and his gaze falls to the table top. _I want to not hurt anymore. Not feel empty inside. I want to take everything I said back, take the last few months of my life back, and I want things to be the way they used to be. I want this all to be some nightmare I’m going to wake up from tomorrow,_ he thinks. He looks up at her with what he hopes is a blank expression a few moments later.

“I want to get back to my shift,” he says, stands, and gathers his things from the table. “Tell everyone I’m sorry yeah? For tomorrow.”

He doesn’t bother to wait for her reply.

 

*****

 

Arthur works doubles and stays late and just pours himself into his work. It’s all he’s got, but even that’s not really doing for him what he needs it to do. It doesn’t numb the pain or turn off the constant loop of ‘What ifs’ or ‘Use to bes’ in his head. It just leaves him physically exhausted enough to allow him a few hours of sleep here and there.

Mithian tries to draw him out, but he breaks down and has the conversation with her that he should have had the day he’d sent Merlin away. None of this has been fair to her. Mithian is wonderful and beautiful and talented and the most amazing woman he’s ever met in his entire life. He wants to love her, thinks that maybe he needs to love her, but no matter how much he tries he just can’t make it work. He can’t make the room in his heart because there’s already more than enough love and need and want for someone he’s never going to have.

She’s hurt and angry, but she says she understands and then tells him to go to hell, slaps him for good measure. Arthur doesn’t bother to tell her that he’s already there. Mithian deserves her anger and he wants her to have it. It’s easier for him that way, having her hate him. He thinks it slots in well with the way the rest of his pathetic life is turning out.

Uther’s anger is worse than Mithian’s and Arthur doesn’t think he’s ever seen his father so furious. He spends the whole of their next family dinner listening to his father berate him and tell him how utterly useless he is. At least, that’s what he takes away from it. He stays quiet the entire time and just takes it. Arthur soaks in every word until he's drowning in it.

“It’s that boy! He’s done this to you! Turned you into this snivelling weakling. Can't even see what's good for you when you've got it. I knew the minute you brought him home with you that he was going to be trouble. You’ve let him fill your life with all of these… these… _perversions_. Disgusting little trollop, bleeding his lifestyle all over you.”

“Shut up!” Arthur snarls; something snapping inside of him and he rises from the dinner table so quickly and so violently that his chair is thrown backwards. “Shut your arrogant, bigoted, ignorant mouth!”

Uther looks scandalized. “How dare you!”

“How dare _you_?” Arthur roars and he’s leaning forward, pressing his hands flat against the table, chest heaving. “You have no idea who Merlin is or what he’s like. You never even bothered to take the time to know him properly. He’s wonderful and sweet, intelligent, funny, selfless. He’s the most amazing person I’ve ever met and I…”

Angry, silent tears are rolling down Arthur’s cheeks and he has to suck in a shuddering breath to keep himself from shattering even farther. The cracks, he thinks, must already be visible; whispering down the curves of his body like awakening fault lines. He feels like he’s dying and he just wants it to happen already. He wants to curl up and sleep and smile as the pain just slips away because tomorrow won’t be coming after all. 

Uther’s just gawking at him, probably caught somewhere between disbelief and an aneurysm. At the moment, the look on his father’s face is the most amusing thing in the world and Arthur starts to laugh. He laughs and laughs, bent forward with his forehead pressed to the table and tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. 

“Arthur,” his father’s voice calls after a while and Arthur has to wonder how he’s ended up back in his chair. He doesn’t remember sitting down. He doesn’t even remember plucking the damned thing up off the floor. “Arthur, I’ve sent for a doctor. I don’t know what’s happened, but we’ll sort this whole mess out.”

Arthur chuckles, blinks slowly at him, and shakes his head. “You can’t fix this, father,” he whispers. “I’ve been broken for years but you’ve been too stuffed up your own arse to even notice. Everything’s your way, on your terms. You told me how to think, how to act, how to feel. I spent so much time listening to you, trying to make you proud of me, trying to fit myself into this neat little box of yours and… and all this time I overlooked the only thing that’s ever really mattered. And now he's gone.”

He’s crying again and Uther looks as though he’s suddenly remembered that he’s a father not a dictator. Too late though. It’s all too late.

“I want to be gone too,” Arthur murmurs and he’s off; running before Uther can stop him.

 

*****

 

The next few hours are crucial. Arthur knows that the scene he’d made at his father’s will only incense his father further. In fact, Arthur thinks he’ll be lucky to make it through the night without a visit from either Uther or men in white coats come to drag him off. Then again, Uther would never be gauche enough to broadcast his son’s mental instability to just anyone. It would take his father some time to contact the ‘right people’. Luckily, a few hours is all Arthur needs.

When he gets to his flat, Arthur changes from his dinner attire into his favorite pair of worn, faded denims and the red button-down shirt Merlin had bought him for his birthday last year. He hangs the suit back up in his closest then moves off to the loo. There he finds what he’s looking for; the still nearly full bottle of Methadone that his doctor had prescribed him when he’d wrecked his back last December playing footie. The pain, at first, had been more than Arthur had been able to deal with. After a few days though he’d decided that he didn’t like the way the painkillers made him feel and he’d stopped taking them.

He quickly shoves the bottle into the pocket of his denims and then proceeds to clean his flat from top to bottom. It's already rather tidy, but Arthur wants it pristine later when there are strangers traipsing through his life; not that it’s been much of one. For a while his phone rings constantly, but he eventually shuts it off.

The cleaning takes about an hour and when he checks his mobile for the time, he smiles. It’s nearly midnight and tomorrow, he realises, is his birthday. It says it right there on the display screen. December twentieth. Arthur had locked himself away in his own head so deeply that he’d completely forgotten. It’s simply been work, home, work, home with no care for the passing of time. Some part of his mind finds that more than fitting. His first moments of life were spent with his mother dying next to him. 

His father had forced him to celebrate his birthday when he’d been younger. In his teens, when Morgana and he had still been close, he’d spent the better part of the day with her. She’d teased and taunted him about ridiculous, meaningless things and he’d forget, for just a moment, that there was this hole in his heart that couldn’t be filled. It had then, despite their growing apart, been the one day of the year where they could come together as family. With Morgana moved on only a few short years later, Merlin had taken to filling the space. They’d have dinner and watch old films and go through a few bottles of wine; just another day because Merlin had always made sure that the shadows wouldn’t set in. And when they did, he’d be a silent presence for Arthur and they’d both pretend that there weren’t _emotions_ and _tears_ involved.

“I’m a fool, Mother,” Arthur whispers and stares out the windows at his view of the London skyline. “I’ve tried so hard to be what I thought father wanted me to be, to be a son that you’d have been proud of. I let you down though. I’ve let everyone down.” 

A sad, twisted sort of smile curls his lips and he drops his gaze to his hands. “Father thinks I’m useless, Morgana hates him, and I'm stuck somewhere in the middle. I’ve kept everyone in my life at arms length, including Merlin, because I was afraid of disappointing them or letting them down. I’ve done that anyway though, haven’t I? I’ve chased everyone away just like father did after you died.”

Arthur’s vision blurs with the swell of sudden tears and he closes his eyes to keep them at bay. He can’t breakdown, not now. “You won’t be very proud of me now, Mother,” he chuffs and blinks several times before looking out the window again. “I know it’s the easy way out, but I can’t… I can’t do this anymore. I can’t _live_ like this any longer. I’ll never be good enough for father and I’m tired of fighting him. I’m tired of trying and failing to mend things with a sister that I don’t even know any more. And I can’t… I can’t look at Merlin or think of Merlin and know that all these years I’ve loved him, all these years I’ve had him, and I was too blind and too foolish to see what was right in front of my own face. I can’t… I can’t see him with Gwaine and not loathe every second of it.”

The tears are falling now and Arthur laughs at himself. “Jesus, Mum, you must think me pathetic. You’d be right of course. I am pathetic. I’m pathetic and I’m a coward and I _hurt_ all the way round and this is the only way I know how to make it stop. I just want it to stop.”

Swiping at his cheeks, Arthur nods. “Now or never,” he mumbles and turns to take one last long look around his flat. It looks cold and empty to him; a sad simile of what his life had become. Arthur gathers up his laptop and a bottle of whiskey on his walk through, then settles down on the sofa in the lounge to prepare his final thoughts. He’s already said what he needed to say to his mum. The pills are first though and he fishes them out of his pocket. Two by two, aided by the slow burn of fifty year old Highland Park Single Malt, they’re washed down his throat until the pill bottle is empty. Arthur figures he has about twenty minutes before the combination of pills and booze takes both his body and his mind from him so he starts the webcam and settles back to look at the screen.

“First off, I want to say that this is no one’s fault. I’ve been heading down this road for a while now I think and it’s just finally all come together. No one gets to blame themselves. I did this. Me. This is my choice and… I’m sorry. I'm broken in a way that can't be fixed and... I know this may leave a few people in a bad place. I can only ask your forgiveness for that. I’m selfish though. I always have been.’

‘Father: I tried to be the son you wanted. I’ve only ever tried to make you proud. I couldn’t be that man for you though and I apologize. As much as I wanted to follow in your footsteps, my heart just wasn’t in it. I should have spoken up, told you how I felt, what I needed. I couldn’t bear the thought of your disapproval though, so I remained silent. You demand so much, Father. Too much at times. I never loved you any less for it though. You’ve always been my hero and you always will be. I’m going to tell you this now and I need for you to listen to me. Leave Morgana be. She has a right to live her life the way she sees fit and love who she wants. As her father, you owe her your love, support, and understanding. That’s all she wants from you. Give it to her before it really is too late. Be the father that you should have been all along. Get to know your grandson. He’s brilliant.’

‘Morgana: I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there for you. I should have supported you. I should have defended you and I didn’t. What happened to us was my fault and I hope you can forgive me for that. You’re an amazing, beautiful, intelligent woman. You’re stronger then I’ve ever been. Be happy. And I know it’s none of my business, but I think you should sit down and talk with Leon. He still loves you. He’s not been the same without you. You still love him too I think. Just, whatever you do, don’t walk away from a chance at love. I did that. Denied it for years. I don’t want you to make that mistake as well.’

‘Mordred: I know you’re probably too young to watch this now but, when you’re older maybe your mum will pass it along. She’s amazing you know, your mother. Wise beyond her years. I’m sorry that I didn’t spend the time with you that I should have. There’s no excuse for that. From what I hear you’re a pretty amazing kid, just as brilliant as your mum. I’ve left a few things for you, for later. Your parents can sort them out. There’s a few things I can tell you now though. One: Your mum isn’t nearly as tough as she’d like you to believe, so always remember to take care of her. Two: Your dad is the best man you’ll ever know and he loves you more than anything. When you were born and he held you in his arms, it was the proudest day of his life. I was there. I’ve got it all on video. So, when you’re a teenager and you’re rebelling like mad, remember that they love you and they want what’s best for you. Three: Your grandfather is not the Big Bad Wolf, he just likes to think he is. Give him a chance, okay?’

‘Gwen and Lance: Love each other. Always. Be good to each other. You’re the only hope out there for the rest of us sorry lot. You give us all hope that it’s not just all fairy tales. Lance hold her every night and tell her how much you adore her and promise her that you will never, ever let her go. Gwen, when he gets stubborn and restless, remind him that he’s already found what he’s looking for and that he’d be a sad man indeed if he forgot it.’

‘Percy, Elyan, Leon: You’ve been my mates for as long as I can remember and I want you to know that I’m sorry I pushed you all away. I wasn’t a very good friend to any of you. You’re all brilliant. Trust each other. Stay loyal to each other. When it comes down to it, you’re only as strong as the one standing next to you. And Leon, tell my sister how much you still love her. Morgana may act like she doesn’t need anyone or anything, but I think we both know that isn’t true. You were good together, still could be. Don’t let that go.”

Sitting forward, Arthur braces his arms across his knees. There’s a bright, smiling face he’s holding in his mind. 

“Merlin: First off I want you to stop your crying because there’s nothing you could have done here all right? This is not your fault. None of this was ever your fault. You’ve been the best thing in my life for so long and I’ve only just…” The tears come unbidden again and Arthur has to take a deep breath before he can continue. The pain’s there again, coiling tighter around his heart and he needs this done and over with. He needs to be able to breathe again. 

“I love you. I’ve loved you for years only I’ve been too much of a coward to say it. I was afraid you see. Afraid of what my father would think of me, afraid of what loving you meant. I seem to ruin or kill the best things in my life and I couldn’t bare that with you. I couldn’t bear the thought of having you, _loving_ you, and then losing you. You’ve always kept me anchored, made me see reason when I thought there was none. You took care of me and put up with me even when you had problems of your own. I could have been a better friend to you. I should have been. You deserve so much more than what I gave you. I guess that’s another reason why I never let myself admit how much I cared for you. I suppose that I always knew you could do better. Gwaine’s a good man. He clearly loves you. I’m sorry that I made things so difficult for the both of you. I could have been more accepting. I was jealous though and I couldn’t see past my own selfish needs. I didn’t know how to deal with the fact that I wasn’t the focus anymore, that maybe… maybe you didn’t really need me anymore.”

The tug of the drugs in his system cause Arthur’s eyes to slide shut for a moment and he settles back against the sofa again. The world will be shifting out of focus any time now and in this moment; Arthur thinks he’s never been so relieved. 

“You’re the best of all of us, Merlin. Your heart, your mind, the way you just accept and love everyone. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had and I took that for granted far too often. You’re also the only one that will ever have my heart. Forever, Merlin. You and me. I love you and… I’m sorry.”

He’s sluggish now, feeling as though he’s moving in slow motion and Arthur has to work to sit forward and stop the recording. He leaves it pulled up on the screen, ready to play once they find him. Everything’s set and in its place. There’s no more pain, no more empty. There’s only a light feeling of floating and the world slipping away as he slumps back into the cushions. They’ll all understand eventually. Things are just better this way. 

 

*****

The light comes from the windows along the left side of the room. It’s golden and bathes the bed at the center of the room in a sort of faded, golden white halo. It’s almost perfect until Arthur realises that the room in question is a hospital room. It's all too white and too bright and comes into focus slowly, but it’s definitely a hospital room.

“What…” he starts, but his voice is rough and his throat’s on fire. He clears it, tries to speak again, but suddenly there’s a shadow and a face looming over him.

“He’s awake!” Morgana states loudly and one of her hands is brushing away the fringe from his forehead. “Arthur?”

He blinks a few times, tries to lick his lips but there’s no moisture in his mouth. “Water,” he croaks and she nods before moving away. A second later she’s back and pressing a straw to his lips.

“Slowly,” she says and he obeys. 

He can only get a few sips in and then he’s licking at his lips and sinking his head back further into the pillow. “What’s… where are we?”

Morgana arches one pristinely shaped brow and sets the water aside. “Queen Elizabeth,” she says. “Merlin didn’t want to have you brought to the hospital where you work but, he didn’t know how long you’d been…” The relief seems to drain out of Morgana’s face and is immediately replaced with cool anger. “How could you, Arthur? Do you have any idea what you’ve put us through?”

Arthur frowns, blinks slowly again, and it all comes crashing in on him once the fuzziness in his brain clears. Resignation settles heavily on him, crowds in around his shoulders and presses down on his chest. He couldn’t even off himself properly. How utterly feeble. 

“Morgana, please just… wait… Merlin?” he asks, his heart clawing its way into his throat.

His sister’s eyes cut to the side and Arthur follows her gaze until his settles on a rumpled, exhausted looking Merlin. There are dark circles under his red, puffy eyes, his hair is messy, sticking out in certain places, and he has several days worth of scruff growing. 

“Your father called me,” Merlin says without moving from the chair. “I don’t know why exactly he chose me of all people, but he was more than a little worried about you after your dinner on Friday. He said you were acting manic and that the two of you had… had a heated discussion. I told him I didn’t think you’d want to see me, but he insisted. When I got to your flat…” Merlin’s words seem to catch in his throat and he lowers his gaze.

“I’ll just um…” Morgana starts and clears her throat. “I’ll go fetch father and a nurse.”

Arthur turns his gaze to her, watches her leave, and then looks towards the ceiling. Perhaps he had died and this was hell. “Your timing is impeccable as always, Merlin.” The words are flat and hollow with just a touch of bitter around the edges.

“Don’t,” Merlin chokes, his voice thick with tears. Arthur hears movement to his left and then his bed is suddenly being raised into an upright position. Merlin is glaring at him, fat tears staining his eyes an even deeper shade of crimson. “Don’t you dare make light of this,” he snarls when the bed has come to a stop. “You don’t get to make comments like that. You don’t get to…” Merlin’s practically rocking on the balls of his feet and Arthur’s never seen him so distraught. 

“You left me! You stupid, selfish, bastard! You don’t get to leave me! You don’t get to die and leave me here all alone!” Merlin’s practically seething and Arthur finds it hard to breathe with all the emotion rolling off the other man. “And _fuck your suicide note_. Fuck you and your ‘I Love Yous’. You don’t get to say things like that when… when… You _died_ , Arthur! You were so pale and you weren’t breathing and I had to… I had to breathe for you and pump your chest and…”

Arthur’s crying now too, silent tears that are running down his cheeks and leaking onto his hospital gown. The pain is back and its swelling so high up in his chest that he thinks it might come leaking out of his pores any second now. A nurse comes rushing in because the machines are going nuts and she's followed by Uther and Morgana.

The nurse gets the machines silenced and shoots Merlin a nasty warning glance before focusing back on Arthur.

“Welcome back, Dr. Pendragon,” she says and Arthur would look at her but he’s too busy staring at the destroyed, haunted expression in Merlin’s eyes. “Can you tell me how you’re feeling?”

“I’m fine,” he says after the nurse says his name a second time. “Tired.”

“I’d imagine so. Your body’s been through quite an ordeal,” she says and then the questions start. He answers them reluctantly while she checks his vitals and follows procedure. Afterwards she tells him a doctor will be by to check on him shortly. Arthur’s eyes never leave Merlin’s. 

Merlin returns to his chair, Uther has taken up vigil at the foot of his bed, and Morgana has moved to the window. No one speaks for a long, tense moment and then Uther breaks the silence.

“We thought we’d lost you.” 

When Arthur looks at his father he sees that the man looks nearly as wrecked as Merlin. “I’m sorry, Father,” is all he can manage. It's a lie. He's not. Saying it will make them feel bettr though.

“No,” Uther says, shaking his head, “I’m the one who needs to apologize. I… I never realised how difficult things were for you. I didn’t know how bad…” Uther’s words cut off for a moment and Arthur can tell that his father is trying to collect himself. “I’m sorry that when you tried to talk to me I never listened. Can you ever forgive me?”

Arthur tries to nod but his head just sort of makes a circling motion and he’s not really sure how they’ve gotten here. This man standing before him isn’t his father. He’d been expecting chastisement and derision not this. 

“I forgive you, Father,” he says and then Uther is rounding the bed and pulling Arthur into his arms. The hug is warm and crushing and Arthur falls into it because his father hasn’t hugged him this way since he was a boy.

“I love you, my son. Please don’t ever scare me like this again. I couldn’t bare it if I lost you. Either of you,” Uther says and turns his gaze to Morgana. “I know that I’ve not been the best father in the world. I’ve made mistakes. You are my children though and whether you can stomach the sight of me or not, I’ll always love and care for you.”

Morgana looks shocked, but the ice thaws in her eyes and Arthur can see how much Uther’s words mean to her. It won’t fix everything, but it’s a start.

“Merlin, I think I owe you the biggest apology of all,” Uther continues and everyone in the room stills as though someone’s just made the announcement that Hell has frozen over. “I’ve never been accepting of your... friendship with my son nor your choice in lifestyle. I can’t say that I’m any more understanding at the moment, but you both have my word that I will try. I’ve always known of your feelings towards Arthur and I’m sorry that it has taken this tragedy for me to see how much my son truly loves you as well. You saved his life, Merlin. There’s nothing I could ever do that will repay that.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Pendragon, I don’t expect anything from you. My only concern is Arthur. It’s always _only_ been, Arthur,” Merlin replies and Uther’s face goes a little stiff, but the man nods his head and looks back to Arthur. They’re interrupted again, this time by the doctor and once again Arthur finds himself playing the question and answer game.

Arthur digests the fact that he’s pretty much been in a coma for three days and that by the time they’d gotten him to A&E pumping his stomach hadn’t done much. The drugs had already been too far into his system. They’d saturated him with charcoal then, got him stable, and waited. He’d gotten lucky that there was no severe liver damage. He would have to undergo a psychiatric evaluation though and would probably be remitted for mandatory observation until they were assured he was no longer suicidal. At this point Uther is speaking again and he and the doctor are moving out into the hallway.

“I’ll wager a few notes that even if he can’t get you out of the psych evaluation, he’ll make sure you don’t spend any time in a padded room,” Morgana muses 

Arthur snorts and drops his head back against the bed. “Morgana, could we… I’m glad you’re here, very glad, but could Merlin and I be alone for just a little? We um, have some things to talk about.”

Morgana smiles and gives a single nod of her head. “Of course. I’ll make sure that no one else comes in either,” she says and kisses them both on the cheek before leaving. Arthur loves her more now than he ever has and he knows that he’ll be making all of this up to her for a very long time.

There’s a long silence after she leaves and Arthur’s trying to figure out a way to make this better. No amount of apologies and pleading will change what he’s done and realistically, he knows that. In the end, he settles for the truth because it’s all he has to work with.

“When I saw how happy you were with Gwaine I was glad for you. I wanted it to work for you. He’s an amazing guy. The more you pushed me away though, the more jealous I got. We went from seeing each other every day to barely talking at all and I… I just missed you, Merlin. I felt like you’d replaced me with some barkeep with perfect hair. Only, he was giving you things that I never could and you were smiling a way you’d never smiled before and I didn’t want to ruin that for you. Until you showed up at my flat that night hurt and crying, I hadn’t let myself think of why not having you in my life hurt so much. And then I kissed you and it was the most amazing thing and I wanted to keep kissing you and touching you, but you were still hurting, Merlin, and I wanted it to just be us in that room. It’s never going to be us though and when I actually let myself accept that, everything just sort of bottomed out.”

Arthur dropped his gaze to his hands and traced the lines on his upturned palms. “I’ve pushed everyone that’s ever mattered away from me because I’m not supposed to get invested in people. Keep everyone at arm’s length and they can’t hurt you. My father made sure that it was branded across my brain when I was little. And I listened to him. I turned them all away. Even Morgana.”

When Arthur finally turns to look at Merlin there are tears in the man's eyes. He hates seeing Merlin cry. It punches a hole in his heart and leaves it floundering in his chest. “Only you ever made it close enough to do any damage and that’s because I fell in love with you. I fell in love with you and I couldn’t even let myself believe it or understand it because you’re not what I expected, Merlin. You’re nothing like what I expected and my father would have never accepted it and I twisted everything around just so I’d still have you even if I really didn’t. It wasn’t fair to you. It’s never been fair to you and I don’t understand how you’ve put up with me for as long as you have.”

“You know why I put up with you, Arthur,” Merlin says softly and Arthur nods. He knows. It’s the way Merlin looks at him, the way he smiles at him, the way he watches him when he thinks Arthur isn’t paying attention. It’s in the way Merlin always finds a way to touch him and press into him and the way he can say out loud what Arthur’s thinking before he even knows he’s thinking it. Arthur may be emotionally stunted, but he’s not stupid.

“I’m sorry I put you through this, Merlin.” And he is. He’s sorry he’s hurt any of them. There’s a part of him though, a very large part of him, that still wishes Merlin hadn’t saved him. Arthur still aches right down to his bones and he knows he can’t promise that he won’t try again. He wants to try again. Wants to get it right. 

“You can make it up to me once you’re better,” Merlin says and shifts in his seat so that he’s sitting on the edge of the chair. “I need you to focus on getting yourself healthy again, Arthur. Everything else can wait. Promise me you’ll do that.”

Arthur smiles sadly at him and then drops his gaze back to his hands in his lap. “I can’t promise that right now. I don’t… I’ve messed up so much of my life, Merlin, and all I feel right now is this never ending ache. I wish… There’s a part of me that wishes you’d been too late and I don’t even know how to feel about that right now. All I know is that I don't want to be here right now.”

Merlin’s moving then and Arthur watches him cross the few steps to the bed. He’s there with him, crawling up onto the bed, and he’s settled across his lap. Merlin’s hands are on his face. “You will not leave me, Arthur. Do you hear me? What’s happened before, that’s over. All we have is what’s in front of us and _I’m_ what’s in front of you. I’m here, Arthur. You have me and I need you to see that. I need for you to be strong for me just like I’m going to be strong for you. I love you, Arthur.”

There’s a moment when Arthur’s sure that time slows down around them and it makes his heart flutter and thump erratically. “What about Gwaine? I thought you’d worked everything out.”

Merlin’s smiling at him as though Arthur is some dimwitted toddler that he’s ever so fond of. “Did you really think after you said those things to me that night that I’d just go running back to him? Gwaine left me in the first place because he couldn’t deal with the fact that I couldn’t let you go. Even when I tried to distance myself from you, so that maybe, just maybe Gwaine and I had a chance, it always came back to you, Arthur. He knew that and I knew that and it wasn’t fair to keep him drifting along in the ‘What ifs’ and ‘Maybes’. And I would have told you this weeks ago but you weren’t returning my calls. I even came by the flat, but you were never there. I thought about coming here to the hospital, I figured this is where you’d be, but the conversation we needed to have couldn’t be had at your job. Then you…”

Merlin leaned forward, choking on the words, and pressed their foreheads together. “This only works if you’re in it with me. It takes two, Arthur, and I can’t do this without you.”

Arthur smiles and presses a soft, trembling kiss to Merlin’s lips. “I’ll try.” He knows he won’t get better overnight and that learning how to breathe again is going to drive him right back down into the dirt some days, but Merlin loves him and he’s here. If that’s not worth fighting for then Arthur doesn’t know what is. 

“Good,” Merlin murmurs and cuddles in close, wrapping himself around Arthur as much as the bed and bindings will allow. “Because if you leave me again, Arthur Pendragon, I swear to all the Gods in the Heavens and the devils down below that I’ll follow right behind you and your afterlife will make those family dinners you so look forward to seem like Christmas morning in Wonderland.”

“Do they even have Christmas in Wonderland?” Arthur asks and Merlin lands a swift smack to the back of Arthur’s head.

“Shut it.”

Arthur chuckles and tugs Merlin close enough that he can feel the heat of him from shoulder to hip and thigh. It’s at that moment that Uther walks back into the room, clearly undeterred by Morgana, and it’s the smile and nod of his father’s head that makes Arthur think that perhaps his fight won’t be so difficult after all.


End file.
